


Our Word Is Our Bond

by Daphne_Dark



Category: The Man in the High Castle (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Cunnilingus, Drabble, F/M, Johnliana, One Shot, Open Relationships, Secrets, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29053578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daphne_Dark/pseuds/Daphne_Dark
Summary: Helen has always taken pride in the fact that she and John are always honest and open with each other.  That claim can play out in many interesting ways... here is one (slightly kinky) exploration of that sentiment...
Relationships: Erich Raeder/Helen Smith, Juliana Crain/John Smith
Kudos: 6





	Our Word Is Our Bond

“John and I always tell each other the truth,” she remembered the red-haired woman saying. “There are no secrets between us, Juliana.”

Juliana watched the tall, powerful man prowling her bedroom, arranging and hanging his pants so they didn’t lose their sharp crease; sliding his boxers off and rolling them neatly, placing them on the edge of the chair so they took almost no space. The rest of his undressing went at the same, unhurried pace.

Why did Helen’s words pop into her head at this moment? When she was watching said woman’s husband about to embark on something he surely didn’t discuss at home?

Besides, for a man with his responsibilities, his security clearances and intelligence for the Reich, there had to be _some_ secrets. Undoubtedly work was different; Obergruppenführer Smith could hardly include who was surveilling whom in marital pillow talk.

She scootched up the mattress and laid on her back. Being on one’s back was a sort of work, for some women, for money or status or survival. She guessed she was ‘some women’, now.

“Juliana… I want to look at you,” he ordered.

She wriggled out of a cheap, slubby, shell-pink nylon slip, something they’d gotten on the road. Elkhart, maybe Akron? After they’d become involved…

Somewhere during the trip, maybe around Des Moines or Davenport, she’d succumbed to him. Or maybe pretended to go along with him. Two strangers in a car, travelling across country; they couldn’t act like ward and warden if they were going to go to restaurants and motels without raising suspicion. And Juliana couldn’t afford to raise suspicion.

He used his advantage so well, played his part so cunningly. Face it, he had loads of charm and sex appeal. When he moved to seduce her, she was seduced, but good.

She looked up at him, moved her leg coyly, half-covering her privates, annoyed at herself for being so slick already.

“Come, you can be a little more friendly than that…”

“I’m not your friend, I’m your lover,” she purred.

“Ye-es… and I’m your master.” He stroked her cheek, put her face in his hand. His thumb rubbed her chin, caressing the dimple there; taking her mouth in his, he kissed her gently. She leaned in. He gently sucked her lower lip, teasing her until she opened her legs. He fingered her insistently, still sucking her lip. Then…

“Ow!” He pulled away, silently laughing. She tentatively licked her bitten lip, checking for blood. “Bastard!”

She regretted it as soon as she said it. His face darkened menacingly, his hand holding her face a bit tighter.

Then just as suddenly, he laughed again.

“I like that about you - you’re spirited. For all your act of a bird-with-a-broken-wing.” He fingered her again, harder and deeper. All while chuckling softly. Evilly.

Swiftly he pulled his fingers out and mounted her. He thrust in hard -- one sudden, overwhelming shot. Exactly how she liked it.

He stuck his fingers in her mouth, making her taste herself, knowing she’d love it. He thrust his fingers deep in her mouth, almost gagging her, then withdrawing, making her seek them. Meanwhile his cock thrust rhythmically in her, sometimes matching the motion of his hand in her mouth, sometimes wildly and erratically off. He obliterated her own rhythm so that she was entirely dependent on him.

And still, that low evil guttural laughter, even as he was beginning to climax himself. The more she struggled the more she felt him, everywhere, probing and filling her. She screamed, muffled by the fingers she was still madly fellating. Her pleasure was explosive; flashes of color popped behind her eyelids, and her head lolled back in exhaustion.

Dimly, she registered that he had also come; that somehow, that incredible force of nature that was John Smith had succumbed to the limitations of his human (and very masculine) frame. Distantly, too, she heard wind, and a pattering of rain on the window.

“Mmm, thank you,” he said. He kissed her gently, almost reverently. He could be a gentleman - once his needs were met.

“Humm, yes… are we in for wet weather? It seems like it’s starting to rain.”

“A storm is setting in this evening; I saw the report on the Reich _Wetterdienst_. I told Helen I was working late and would stay downtown. No sense driving to Staten Island in sheets of rain.”

“But it probably isn’t a real thunderstorm. Not like what we saw in the Midwest.”

“No,” he agreed. His long fingers traced S-curves around her nipples, making them tingle. “Not like that night in Davenport.”

\----

Erich lay on the elegant grey bedspread, listening to the wind gust against the windows.

“I’m glad you got here early,” Helen said, laying down beside him. “If you’d stayed at the office and eaten at Schrafft’s, I’d be worried about you travelling in this rain and sleet.”

“Oh, I was on my way. The minute you said ‘veal marsala’ I was ready to leave work; John can testify to that.”

“You’re sweet.” She kissed him coquettishly. “Was he upset?”

“No. But I think he was jealous.”

“Of veal marsala?”

“Partly.” He touched a coppery curl next to her ear, gazing at her, utterly besotted.

“Well, I say what’s good for the gander is good for the goose!” She untied the bow of her coral negligeé. “I understand, he has his work… but think what he’s missing!” she said in a teasing voice. She loosened up her gown so that it was completely open, allowing Erich a full frontal view.

“What he’s missing, indeed,” he mumbled. He was growing restless, his cock stirring, prodding her as he pressed her against him.

She had undressed him already, then made him wait while she had changed behind a screen, knowing that it would drive him wild. Then she had walked toward him, sashaying across the room so that the chiffon gown swayed with her.

Now she arranged her legs around him, slowly and regally, like an Indian _Rani_. Erich was the perfect subject to her affections, so willing and able to please. Whenever and however she needed him.

He laid kisses across her shoulders, her torso, her breasts (lingering there longest), his mouth restless, hungry. Her hands rested lightly on his shoulders, noticing him trembling a little with pent-up desire. She was annoyed to find that her hands were trembling, too…

He pulled up the hem of her negligeé, gathered the coral chiffon above her waist and pushed it to the side, out of the way. His hand tentatively stroked the strawberry curls of her pubic hair, and she loved his knowing, gentle stroking.

“Please,” he begged, placing a tentative kiss on her mons “…please…”

“Ohhh, yess…” God, he knew her! She was getting wet fast, just thinking about his warm, expert mouth satisfying her pussy…

He was kneeling on the bed and she let him lift her, wrapping her legs around his shoulders. She was an Oriental queen indeed, knelt to and worshipped, both devotee and practitioner of the Kama Sutra and other recherché arts…

“Aaaaahhh...” His mouth, it was so good! She tossed her head madly. Soon she would give way…

“Helen, darling! Do you want to come now, or should I…”

“Now! Yes! Make me come!” she commanded. She was practically coming already. John would never even have asked, he would have just _done_. But John wasn’t here, and there was something to be said for the man who worshipped you, from golden head to your ivory foot…

She came; her legs thudded to the mattress, spent with pleasure. Helen spread herself wide, holding out her arms for her lover, happily letting him finish in her. Then they lay there, panting until their breaths returned, slow and normal.

Far-off thunder, somewhere in Jersey maybe, growled in the distance as they held each other in the afterglow. She felt Erich tenderly burying his lips in her hair. Her negligeé was hitched up awkwardly from their lovemaking, and Erich rearranged it gently into some semblance of covering her.

“Very pretty… is it new?”

“Yes, brand-new, just today. You’re the first to enjoy it.”

“ _Me_ , really? Even before John?…” Erich felt slightly embarrassed, but pleased.

“John sent it himself, late this afternoon.”

“But did he know that I...?”

“Yes, he knew that you and I!… and that _he_! The visit to the JPS girl was planned.” Helen frowned for a moment. “I’m afraid she’s going to need some attention.”

But then she smiled, and propped upon her elbow. She smoothed her hand over her lover’s earnest face. “But he _was_ sorry about that, and sent this as a sort of apology.” She paused. “We tell each other everything, Erich. Our word is our bond.”


End file.
